


The Killing of the King God's Car by the Traitor Prince Maelgwyn

by thunder_rolled_a_six



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, Family Drama, Happy Ending, Modern AU, Terminal Illnesses, and handling it badly, samol is sick and everyone is very sad about it, the 6 are shitty teens that smoke weed ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 12:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_rolled_a_six/pseuds/thunder_rolled_a_six
Summary: The summer after graduating high school Maelgwyn does dumb things with his friends, calls his grandpa a lot, and beats the shit out of a very old car with a tire iron.





	The Killing of the King God's Car by the Traitor Prince Maelgwyn

**Author's Note:**

> I really think Maelgwyn should get a hug? People should hug him? And this family should confront the grief that makes them do terrible things to each other? 
> 
> And, like, all buy weed from Fero??

Maelgwyn had scraped out of high school with a 3.7 GPA. His grades had gone wildly up and down over the last four years, but since his grandfather had gotten sick his parents hadn’t noticed much either way. If it wasn’t a bad grade, they’d find some other reason to be distantly disapproving, so he figured he’d finish strong. Ish. Whatever. Summer is here, now, finally and finally. The last one before he gets shipped off to whichever high brow school he gets accepted into and his parents deem worthy of the family. 

Fall is ages off though. For now, Maelgwyn is free to do what he wants. And that, currently, involves a Hitchcock and a shopping cart and a hill. 

"Are we sure this is safe?" Aubrey asks, nervously perched on the curb, rolling her scooter back and forth in the gutter before her. 

"It'll be fine," dismisses the Hitchcock not in the cart. Edmund, Maelgwyn thinks.

"Yeah, Aubrey," Maelgwyn pipes up. "He's wearing a helmet. Safe."

She looks dubiously at the length of the hill.

“And Sige is down there,” Castille says reasonably, holding the cart handlebar so it doesn’t begin to roll prematurely. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine!" Says cart Hitchcock, knocking on his helmet. "Totally fine and safe."

Aubrey looks fairly unconvinced still, but purses her lips and stands up. "Alright. Everybody ready?"

There is a chorus of affirmatives from the top of the hill. 

" _ Hey Sige! _ " Aubrey shouts down the expanse. " _ You ready? _ "

" _ Yeah. _ ..." comes the faint reply. 

"Ok.... Edmund, you filming?"

"You know it!" Non cart twin, Edmund for sure, Aubrey always knows, replies.

"Alright. On your marks! Get set! Go!"

\--

"-And he went totally careening off into somebody’s garden, like, 300 feet past where Sige was. He tried to chase him and catch him or whatever, but it was too late." Maelgwyn shakes his head in not exactly remorse as he digs through the fridge for the jar of peanut butter. "He was fine. Helmet! The roses got a little messed up though. We fixed 'em, mostly, and we apologized."

"Aw, don't go messing with people's gardens," Samol's voice sounds tinny from where Maelgwyn has his phone trapped between chin and shoulder. "People work hard on those."

"I know! We apologized! And really we thought he'd go right to the park at the bottom of the street, a cart wheel musta been crooked or something."

“Well there's no accounting for crooked cart wheels, I suppose."

Maelgwyn nods, then blinks and says "Uh huh. " He rummages in a drawer for a spoon, finding a nice big one for optimal peanut butter mass. "The video is great, I'll send you it later."

"You know I'm not too good at opening those, I'm ancient, remember?"

"You do fine, grandpa," Maelgwyn rolls his eyes. "But, ok, I'll just show you when I'm there next. Like, tuesday maybe?"

"I'll check my schedule, so packed as it is." Maelgwyn laughs at the sarcasm dripping from his grandpa's voice. 

"Man, how do you even have time for me, your lowly grandson?"

"I'll try to fit you in  _ somewhere _ ."

"Alright! I'm gonna go, I've got a peanut butter snack with my name on it and I think it will make phone conversation mostly impossible. Love you! Talk to you later!"

"Goodbye, don't go trampling any more gardens."

"I won't, promise!"

Maelgwyn hangs up on Samol's laughter and takes a big bite of peanut butter before turning and-

Ah. Great. Running right into Samothes.

"Hi?" He tries to say, but it comes out as a muffled nonsense noise. Maelgwyn tries to chew faster in case he needs to defend his honor against some imagined slight to the family. 

"You pushed your friend in a  _ shopping cart _ down Garden street?"

Not imagined, then. Maelgwyn tries to swallow. "It was fine! He had a helmet! And you heard, it went fine! The garden owner was mostly amused, I think."

"Maelgwyn..." His father sounds exasperated, gesturing with his hands wordlessly for a moment before leaning on the counter and frowning at him. Maelgwyn notices the grease on his hands, his shirt. He must have been working on his ancient car, like always. A gift from Samol for his own high school graduation that he’s become frustratingly fixated on keeping functional. "You're not in high school anymore. You're not a  _ child _ anymore. That was reckless,  _ dangerous _ . You could have gotten your friend  _ hurt _ ." 

"Helmet," Maelgwyn insists. "Besides, we did soap box car racing when I was like  _ ten _ . You pushed a ten year old down Garden street.”

"In a a gravity racer I made for that purpose! You were  _ safe!  _ It was controlled! It was not a shopping cart. With crooked wheels. I had hoped you were more responsible than that."

Not mad just disappointed, right. Maelgwyn tries to ignore the burn of that comment by taking another mouthful of peanut butter. 

"Mmmhm. Sorry, gotta go," he mumbles, turning tail and heading quickly to his room, Samothes' sigh chasing him away. 

\--

Castille’s house already smells like pizza by the time Maelgwyn gets there. Through four years of careful science and "I dunno, what do you wanna eat"s, the Six have got their pizza order down pat and no longer need to gain consensus. One large cheese, one all veggie, one half sausage and black olive half pepperoni, one hawaiian, and an order of garlic bread. Maelgwyn heads right to the kitchen to claim his customary slice of sausage black olive, and one of hawaiian. Castille makes her customary grimace in return. "Fruit-"

"Doesn't belong on pizza, I know, I'm a heathen, blah blah. Blame Tristero and his weird island themed... life." Maelgwyn leans against her shoulder, plate in hand. "Hey."

"Hey," she smiles at him and his heart does silly cartwheels. "You see the video yet?"

"Yeah!" He crows, grinning big. "It's great! I'm going to grandpa’s tomorrow to show him, I told him about our glorious pursuits. He always says he's bad at technology but I think he just wants me to come over. I swear I saw the snapchat icon on his phone when I was there last."

Castille makes an amused but puzzled face. "Who would he... be snapping...?"

Maelgwyn shrugs. "Like.... no, I have  _ no  _ idea. Maybe he's secretly an influencer or some shit. 'How to be cool and old and make a rad vegetable stew.' Or something."

Castille laughs and grabs her pepperoni and cheese, always a pizza traditionalist. They head into the living room together, not exactly holding hands. They had been dancing around each other their entire senior year. Ethan had kept bugging him to make a move already but Maelgwyn just kept telling him that just because the two of them had gone from making out at a party to dating to being broken up and just good friends in the span of two weeks doesn't mean he has to rush things with  _ everybody _ . He's fine taking this slow. He really likes Castille, he'll let it happen when the time is right.

Maelgwyn pointedly ignores Ethan's pointed stare as him and Castille settle next to each other in front of the sofa where Aubrey, Sige, and Edmund all lean against one another. Aubrey starts braiding his hair the moment he's sitting still enough. He takes a big bite of pizza and closes his eyes at the gentle feeling.

"Has anybody else got their letters yet?" Aubrey nervously asks the room. "They said July and I know it's only the end of June but I thought they might be early, or maybe other schools do it faster or something, and I just-" 

Sige pats her head gently. "Aubrey, breathe. You're the smartest person I know! You'll get in! And I didn't apply anywhere, anyway. Working at my parent's shop will pay well, and like... I don't want to keep doing school... but have to pay for it? And it be harder? It all sound real bad."

Maelgwyn hums in agreement, setting his pizza on his plate. "Yeah, going to a four year sounds like shit."

"Didn't you apply to like ten of them?" Ethan looks surprised form his sprawled position in the room’s much contested armchair. 

"Samot practically held me at knife point. I think If I hadn't done the applications myself dad would have filled them out for me."

Castille makes a sympathetic face. She knows what she wants to do, and Maelgwyn envies her a little for it. She had done early application at Memorius, been accepted easily into the fast track engineering program despite the fact she’ll only be a freshman. Maelgwyn never found anything he liked that much in school, and if he had his way... 

"Man, I just wanna go to the cc over in Old Man’s Chin. Take some bullshit classes till I find something I actually want to do. But nope, no  _ community college _ for the Hieron family."

There are are five faces of annoyed disgust and it makes Maelgwyn laugh a little. "It's whatever. Sige is right, Aubrey, you'll get in fine. You're great!" He tips his head back onto the couch to grin up at her, and she scrunches her nose at him. 

"Maybe! Maybe I will!" 

"Definitely will!” Castille says, grabbing her backpack and rummaging through the abyss. "And so you won't think about it, movie time!"

Sacred tradition dictates that no one can complain about the movie chooser's pick of entertainment, but Maelgwyn doesn't mind Castille's taste in cheesy action flicks in any case. Car engines rev up on screen as Aubrey rolls a joint to pass around the room. Maelgwyn takes a drag and uneasily thinks about the future. Acceptance letters. Aubrey really will get in to the university in Velas, and come Fall will suddenly be five hours away. At least Memorious is only a little less than two, without traffic. But Maelgwyn himself might not-  _ probably _ won’t even be here anyway. Both his parents expect him to pick the fanciest school he gets into and get some profitable degree, and he doesn't exactly see how he can say no. He turns to Castille as the movie gets to a noisy enough spot for a quiet conversation. Screw ‘right times.’

"Hey!" He more or less whispers. 

"What,” she whispers back, knees tucked to her chest and eyes glued to the screen.

"Go on a date with me?"

This gets her to break concentration. "What? Like a ? - what do you mean?"

"You know," Maelgwyn shrugs, confidence quickly wilting. "Like... go... somewhere. Eat food? But like? Hold hands too?" 

She stares at him, an incredulous but growing smile on her face. "Eat food and hold hands?"

Maelgwyn nods.

"Ok. Sure! I'll eat food and hold hands."

"Nice." Maelgwyn nods, and almost goes to shake her hand before realizing he's not some sort of weird business man. "Wednesday? Wednesday for food and hands?"

Castille snort laughs and Maelgwyn smiles at the sound. "Yeah, Mael. Wednesday for food and hands."

"Cool," Maelgwyn settles back against the couch. "Wednesday. Cool."

Castille laughs again before someone shushes her.

  
  


\--

Maelgwyn never wanted to get up early for school but is finding it not so bad now that he doesn't  _ have _ to be anywhere. He has to go to his Samol's place later, but has the morning to himself. The dads are both at work, so there's no one around to judge his every decision and so, he figures, may as well make a decision they would really hate. He snaps Fero, looking to replenish Aubrey's supply the Six had gone through last night. In not too long he gets a reply with a location, throws on some shoes, grabs his skateboard and rolls out the door. 

Fero's waiting around the back of the town's older library, right where he said he'd be. The building is very old, and has no exterior security cameras. Pretty good wifi, though. Maelgwyn waves as he approaches, dragging his foot to slow to a stop.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Maelgwyn is looking through what Fero has to offer when he notices him looking up like another person is coming near. Maelgwyn tenses a little, looking over his shoulder for library staff and finding his brain unable to make sense of who he sees.

“G- grandpa? Why are you- don't tell my-”

“Don't tell your dads-”

Samol and Maelgwyn stand frozen, staring at each other before Samol smiles a rueful grin and Maelgwyn lets out a startled laugh.

“Grandpa… you're  _ their _ dad, I think you can do what you want?”

Samol waves a hand in the air. “You know your fathers. Samothes wouldn't approve but wouldn't  _ say _ he doesn't approve and he would just  _ sit _ there,  _ not approving _ , and Samot would start fuckin…  _ googling _ cbd or whatever. It'd be a whole  _ thing _ .” Samol shakes his head. “Simpler this way.”

Maelgwyn snorts. “Yeah thats- that's  _ my dads. _ ” He can't help making a bitter face. Samol looks concerned but Fero chooses the moment to loudly clear his throat.

“Do you guys still want to do this, or…”

“Oh, yes… thank you Fero, I'll buy his too.”

Maelgwyn is pretty sure he turns bright red at the concept of his  _ grandfather _ buying him  _ weed _ , but manages to make it out of the situation without actually dying of embarrassment. The two of them walk down the sidewalk in silence for a few moments. Samol looks at him out of the corner of his eyes. 

“You doing alright? You getting along with your parents?” 

“Ha.” Maelgwyn scrubs a frustrated hand over his face. “No- I- yeah, it's fine. Its- whatever. I don't wanna bother you with dumb shit.”

“Ain't dumb shit.” Samol gently bumps Maelgwyn's shoulder with his own. “I know my sons can be…”

“Self absorbed jackasses?” 

“Ha! They can be a  _ lot _ . They do ok sometimes though. They made you! That's quite an achievement.”

Maelgwyn makes a face. “Dunno if they think so.”

Samol stops walking and turns to him. Maelgwyn keeps facing forward, jaw set tight.

“You know they love you.” 

“Mm.”

“Oh, little boy,” Samol sighs the words. “They do. Things are… messy right now, but they've always, will always love you. And you know I do too.”

Maelgwyn nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Samol contemplates him awhile longer. “You wanna come over and smoke some of this?”

Maelgwyn can't help laughing. “Yeah, fuck, sure. Wait- _ Wait!  _ Is that why you have snapchat? Is  _ that _ who you snap?" 

Samol very carefully keeps his face blank and Maelgwyn doubles over, cackling. 

\--

Maelgwyn comes home just as the mail gets to the house. He takes the mail from the delivery person, wishing them a nice day with a wave. He shuffles through the envelopes as he walks the path to the front door, past Samothes’ car, one tire off to be replaced. Maelgwyn rolls his eyes at it. Bill, ad, bill, Yellow House. Fuck. Maelgwyn stands stock still outside the door for a moment before quickly stuffing the letter down the front of his shirt. He moves through the house quickly, shouting a greeting and dumping the mail on the table before bolting to his room and shutting the door firmly. Fuck fuck fuck. He opens the letter with slightly unstable hands. A quick skim has rocks settling into the pit of his stomach. He did it. Somehow, with his halfway shit grades, he had got into a fucking ivy league. He figures it was his name, probably. Samothes was well known, well off, regarded as brilliant. Samot too, in his own circles, and he had gone to the school when he was Maelgwyn’s age. He can't quite imagine they'd looked at his B- in trig and been wowed.

Maelgwyn sighs, dropping onto his bed and scrubbing his hands across his face. He didn't want to go. He really, truly, did not want to go. It's too far, he doesn't want to be around a bunch of people trying to show off how smart they are. He doesn't want to leave his grandpa. He's been looking better recently but the eggshells the whole family is walking on is that he doesn't have very long left. Couple of years, maybe, being optimistic. Maelgwyn's eyes start to sting and he backtracks away from that line of thought. He has a date tomorrow. A date with someone he likes a lot who will be so far away if he has to go so far to school.

Maelgwyn stares at the paper. It's heavy, a nice quality cardstock, no 20lb printer paper shit. Still. It's paper. A small piece of paper. Extremely hideable. Maelgwyn buries it in his sock drawer, and firmly tries to forget about it.

\--

"I dunno, something blue?"

Maelgwyn sighs, holding his phone and looking balefully around his room. "That's not really helpful."

Samol chuckles. "Boy it's been about a millennia since I've been on a date, I don't know  _ why  _ you're asking me. "

"You're not  _ that _ old. Maybe, like, a century," Maelgwyn mutters, moving around two pairs of jeans with different washes. "I want to look casual but like put together but also not like I tried too hard. But like I tried a little hard? Like I don't want to make her think I don't care about this but I don't want to make her think I'm coming on too strong and am stupid silly in love."

"Are you stupid silly in love?" Maelgwyn can hear the raised eyebrow and flushes. 

"No."

"Hmm."

That sound is far too knowing for Maelgwyn's liking and he clears his throat. "Trying but not trying too hard. What do I  _ do, _ Grandpa?"

"Dress like you normally do, she said she wanted to go on this date, right? So she likes whatever you've been doing so far! Bring her some flowers. Daffodils, lucky beginnings."

"Flowers? That's not too much?"

"You want to woo her a  _ little _ bit, don't you? Samothes practically gave Samot a damn flower shop on their first date. I don't think you gotta go that far, but a couple of stems ain't going in a bad direction."

"Ok. Alright. Daffodils?"

"S' a nice color.”

"Yeah." Maelgwyn looks at the clothes scattered on his bed. "Ok. I'll try to wear something that looks good with yellow. Bleh."

Samol chuckles. "You nervous?"

"Yeah. I like her a lot."

"I know it! You mention her at least once a conversation even when she has nothing to do with it. You been going on since near September."

"Yeah, well! She's great!" Maelgwyn pouts at his empty room.

"I'm sure! You'll have to bring her over some time! It's ok to be nervous, but you'll do just fine. You're friends already, and that’s the important bit."

"Hmm. Ok." Maelgwyn flops on top of his clothes. "I'm going to lay here in despair till like 20 minutes before I need to leave and pick whatever in a panic."

"Ha! Good plan. Good luck."

"Thanks. Love you. I'll update you after."

"I eagerly await it. Love you, too, kid. Bye."

\--

They meet at the old burger joint on one of the side streets off main. It's apparently been there since Maelgwyn's parents were teens, and serves the best fries in the universe. Maelgwyn holds his daffodils nervously. He got there a bit early for fear of being late and now has to stand there awkwardly, dressed in his 'dads are making me going to a fancy thing' button down and a ratty pair of jeans (trying too hard and trying too little will hopefully cancel each other out). He tries not to fiddle with his septum ring, he’d put in a fancy one and it’s a little heavy and distracting. Right on time, though, at 6:00 on the dot, Castille rounds the corner. Her hair is up in a fancy braid and she's wearing a dress Maelgwyn hasn't seen before. It's yellow, like the flowers, and Maelgwyn is suddenly extremely grateful for Samol's advice.

"Full disclosure," she says as she approaches, "I got here like fifteen minutes ago but didn't want to seem too eager so waited around the corner like a dumbass."

Maelgwyn lets out a surprised laugh. "Oh! Well, I've been here for like 10 minutes holding flowers and avoiding eye contact with people trying to get cheap burgers, so how's that for over eager?"

"Ok eager. An alright eager amount. The- the flowers are nice. Thanks Mael."

"Yeah!" Maelgwyn hopes he isn't blushing too obviously. "I thought- well I mean- They match your dress! I Didn't plan that but, cool. It's a nice dress! You- You look very nice, Castille." He laughs and it sounds a little pathetic to his own ears, but she laughs in return.

"Thanks." Maelgwyn is a little relieved that she has begun to blush too. Wanting to break the tension, he puts on an exaggeratedly sophisticated face and offers his arm in a sweeping gesture.

"Shall we enter the establishment?"

Castille immediately straightens her back and turns up her nose. "Hwhy yes, let us dine on the fanciest burgers and fries in the land!" 

They walk through the door giggling, hands dropping to cautiously clasp at their sides. Food and hands! Maelgwyn is certain he’s grinning like an absolute dumbass. They order at the counter, only experiencing a brief moment of confusion before shrugging and paying for each other's meals. They grab a spot at the counter, swinging their legs dangling off the tall stools. The flowers get propped up gingerly behind the napkin dispenser.

"I'll have to run home if we do anything after this, I don't want these to wilt!"

"Oh. Well. I could just bring you more?"

Castille smiles a little shyly. "Well uh- yeah, that could work, too. How'd you pick daffodils? I can't believe you somehow picked up the yellow vibes I was putting into the universe."

"Grandpa, honestly.” Maelgwyn scratches his head a little sheepishly. “I may have called him for date advice earlier, he said daffodils."

"Aw. Well, good advice. Good flowers."

"Yeah."

Their order is called and Maelgwyn hops up to get it. When he returns to his seat Castille takes his hand again before making a contemplative face and dropping it.

"Sorry. burgers seems like a two handed thing. Food and then hands."

"Ha! Alright." 

They eat the meal and talk in their usual rambling way. It's nice, comfortable, and still somehow new and lovely. The old lighting makes Castille glow, and Maelgwyn is a little in awe of her. They hold hands again when they get down to just milkshakes. They do end up roaming around after their meal, hands still held even when they get a little weird and sweaty. Castille holds the flowers carefully as they wander in and out of any of the stores downtown that are still open, competing to find the strangest or funniest thing in each. Castille is winning in the end, with a horrifying old doll made of what looks to be the soles of shoes found in an antique store. Maelgwyn walks her home eventually, and she hugs him in her doorway.

“Thanks Maelgwyn. This was great.”

“Yeah! Hands and food are good, it turns out!”

She laughs. “Yeah! We should do it again some time!”

Maelgwyn smiles big and nods. “We really should. See you… like tomorrow probably. The Six’ll probably be up to some shit.”

“See you!”

Maelgwyn smiles all the way home, till his cheeks hurt. He comes in the front door quietly. It’s not too late, and he had let his dads know where he was going, but he still thinks it would be best to just avoid them. Before he can make it to his room, he hears a sound from the kitchen, and perhaps against better judgement peers around the corner to take a look.

Samot stands in half darkness, only one overhead light turned on, face in hands, muffling tears. Maelgwyn feels his insides freeze. He knows it’s been rough on his parents. He knows how miserable they’ve been though they try to hide it, Samot with his work, Samothes with his car. But no one will ever  _ say _ anything. Maelgwyn holds the door frame tight, not knowing what to do. The wood creaks and Samot looks up, startled. 

“Maelgwyn.”

“Hi, sorry. I was just- Sorry.” 

Samot frowns, straightening himself up. “You’re home late.”

“I was on a date, remember?”

“Mm.” Samot stands, neither of them acknowledging the tears still falling down his face. “You should go to bed.”

“Yeah, I was just- ok. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Maelgwyn rushes to his room. The happy bubble of his night with Castille has deflated significantly, replaced with the sickly dread of seeing a parent afraid. It takes him hours to fall asleep, nervously griping at his blankets like he did when he was young.

  
  


\----

Maelgwyn and Castille go on more dates over the next few weeks. She has a summer job at one of the fancy boutiques selling overpriced shoes to tourists, and he meets her after to get up to some restorative nonsense. They hold hands and Maelgwyn's heart still does backflips every time. Samol teases him about it whenever they talk. Aubrey gets into the university in Velas and the Six throw a party that lasts three days and spans four houses and most of the city. Maelgwyn traipses home that last evening, pleasantly exhausted in the soft afternoon light.

When he gets inside his parents are waiting at the kitchen table. He winces at the looks on their faces.

"Sorry- didn't you get my messages? I was with the Six, Aubrey got into Velas! We were cele-"

"She's not the only one who got into their dream school, is she?"

Samot's tone is cold and Maelgwyn's stomach drops to the floor. 

"What.. what do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid, it's unbecoming. We found the letter." 

Maelgwyn frowns. "That was in my stuff, why were you looking through it?"

"I had some of your laundry, I was just-"

"You've never done my laundry, not since I was like 11, you were searching through my sh-"

"You hid the letter." Samothes interrupts. "The acceptance date is coming up, why would you  _ sabotage _ your futur-"

"I don't want it!" Maelgwyn snaps. He takes a deep breath and tries to pick a point in the middle distance so he doesn't have to look either of his dads in the face. "I don't want to go to Yellow House. I don't want to study law or business or whatever. I don't want to- I don't know what I want to do! Long term I mean. I just... I would like to go to Old Man’s Chin community college, figure it out. It's only twenty minutes away, I could be around for Grandpa and not too far from Castille-"

"You're doing this for a girl?" Samothes crosses his arms. Maelgwyn grits his teeth at the mental acrobatics that conclusion must have come from.

"No- are you even listening to me? Dad- Samot, at what point during this process did I  _ ever _ seem enthusiastic? I've _ never _ wanted to do this, you just seemed so set on it, I didn't want to- to upset you, I just-"

"So you waited till the last minute? We could have worked with you if we had known this was what you wanted-"

"Yeah, like you would ever have considered this a viable option! You would have shot me down immediately, like you do for everything! You don't like my friends, you don't like my plans, you would have just gone through with this!" 

Samot frowns and opens his mouth to speak, but Samothes gets there first. "We don't understand why you wouldn't want this. It's an honor, people are lucky to get into a school like this. You should be grateful-"

"Well, I'll give up my spot so someone who actually wants it can feel so lucky."

"Whose house do you think you'll live in while you waste your time, because it won't be o-" 

"Samothes." Samot places a hand on his husband's arm, but the sentiment has already sunk into the room like a block of lead. Maelgwyn barks out a harsh laugh.

"Yeah. Fine, I figured. I don't know what I did fucking wrong but you haven't wanted me here for years, huh? A big inconvenience to you. Fine. I'll go then." Maelgwyn turns and walks for the front door, heart cracking as no one stops him. He runs out the door, sprinting down the path till he can collapse against the garage door, ice and fire mixing in his gut and sapping the strength from his bones. He gasps in air, trying to frown, trying to turn the horrible sensation of falling apart at the seams into anger. He stares at his father's stupid car, the one he wastes so much time on, sitting in the driveway. A car, that he cares more about than his kid. More than his husband, trying to hide his crying in the kitchen at night. A tire iron rests on the ground nearby. There had been another flat today, Samothes must have been fixing it. Maelgwyn feels entirely disconnected from himself as he picks it up, holds its solid weight in his hands. 

He takes a step towards the car.

Another.

And swings.

The arc is glorious, the motion smooth, the thunderous crash of glass and metal meeting a symphony on the quiet sunset street. Maelgwyn swings, again, and again. Each impact feels like nails in a coffin, his own, his grandfather’s. Fuck this. Fuck Samothes. Fuck the grief that has seeped into everything, turning all rotten. 

The windshield, the hood. A headlight. A rear view mirror. Maelgwyn destroys them, blood rushing in his ears and he can’t hear the violence or his own voice, screams tearing from his throat. His vision blurs as tears build up and begin to spill down his face. And then- and then, as if underwater, his father’s voice.

"Maelgwyn! _ Maelgwyn _ \- What are you doing?" 

Samothes sounds furious, sounds in shock. Maelgwyn can't- he feels incapable of response. He keeps attacking the car, rage turned to desperation; maybe if he just keeps going he can turn the car to dust, demolish it so completely there will be no evidence of this and his family will love him again.

He swings again, but there’s a hand on his arm, around his waist, pulling him back. He snarls, ripping away from his father’s grip. 

" _ Maelgwyn! _ " Samothes voice is huge, a thunderclap contained in a person. "This- How  _ could  _ you!"

"It's a car!" Maelgwyn shouts back, trying to match the storm. "It's a  _ car!  _ You just- You can't  _ do  _ this!"

“Do _ what _ ." Fury, hot like a forge. 

"Grandpa is  _ dying _ ," Maelgwyn meanly relishes in the way Samothes full body flinches away. "This fucking car isn't going to save him. I'm so fucking tired of you- of both of you just- you're the adults, and I'm _ scared! _ I'm  _ sad!  _ You're supposed to- I  _ need _ you!  _ Grandpa _ needs you! And you're out here- this stupid.. this stupid  _ car! _ " Maelgwyn weeps the words, his thoughts tangling nastily. Samothes looks like he's been turned to stone. Vaguely he registers that Samot has come outside too, is watching, another pointless parent-statue. Maelgwyn grips at his hair, hunkers down in on himself.

"Fuck you!" Barbed-wire words that drag past his lips. Lobbing explosives so they'll have to pay attention. "You don't  _ care. _ I get it, fine, I'm not good enough. You love grandpa and you love each other and you don’t- I try- I tried so hard and you don't even-" Maelgwyn cuts himself off with a shriek. He feels dizzy, he cant get enough air, and suddenly he needs to leave. He will break too far if he stays a second longer. He stumbles backwards, wishing he had his skateboard, anything, anything to move faster. Samothes reaches to grab him but he's running now, ignoring the shouts of his name, blindly  _ going _ . 

He had no plan besides to escape, but as the sun sets entirely and the wind cuts cold, he stops his wild dash. Where.. his first instinct is to go to Samol but he immediately recoils from that. He can't bother him with this. He messed up, so horribly, he can't make his grandpa deal with how terribly he's behaved. Castille. It has to be Castille. Her house isn't too far away, it doesn't take him too long to get there, even only using his feet. He stands outside the door for minutes or hours, summoning the courage to knock. The hollow thuds of his hand on wood is such a final noise. The door opens and Castille right away looks so concerned that Maelgwyn starts to cry again.

"Oh!" she exclaims, pulling him inside, pulling him into her arms. "Maelgwyn! What? What happened? Is- Is Samol-..."

He shakes his head, whole body shivering. “No! No. I- no, I-” The car, he broke the car, he  _ broke _ the  _ car _ -

He isn’t sure how or when it happened but he’s sitting on Castille’s couch now, and she’s rubbing her hand up and down his back. “He’s never going to forgive me.” His voice is a hoarse croak. “He’ll never- I can’t go back.”

"I... it's ok. I'm so sorry, you can stay here as long as you need. Oh, Mael..."

He leans into her, and she buries her face in his hair. They eventually fall asleep on the couch, tangled together, warm.

\--

Maelgwyn feels hollow in the morning, like all his insides have been scooped out, like he left them behind at his parent's house. 

"You should try to eat," Castille puts a muffin in front of him, but he looks blearily at her and shakes his head.

"Maybe later." 

She sighs and kisses his cheek. It's soft, and even with no insides at all Maelgwyn treasures it. They hadn't kissed yet. It had just been holding hands, laughing together on late nights, long walks and stupid adventures. Castille is one of his very best friends and he finds his eyes welling up. This is what he's lucky to have, not some school. She wraps her arms around him again.

"Sorry." He whispers the word.

"Don't apologize! You're all fucked up, it's ok!" He laughs and leans into her. She smiles, he can feel it pressed into his shoulder. "Do you want to just hang out with me, who, we both know, is fantastic, or should I call An Emergency Six meeting?"

Maelgwyn hums in contemplation. Castille is fantastic, it's true. But Emergency Six Meetings have got them all through terrible times over the course of their friendship, and having five people hug you at once can heal many wounds. "Six, please."

"Alright. I'm going to have to detangle to get my phone."

Maelgwyn nods, picking at the muffin while she sends out the call. The rest of their friends are there quickly, Aubrey first, with cookies, immediately wrapping her arms around his middle in one of her surprisingly tight hugs. The Hitchcocks next, with what looks like half a 7-11 in a grocery bag between them. Edmund tosses him a twix bar, his favorite, and kisses his forehead. The last emergency meeting had been for him, during a bad depressive spell after a failed test last year. His eyes are sympathetic. "You'll be ok." He says, not needing to context to have confidence in his friend. Maelwgyn nods, smile small and twisty with with tension of having felt a second away from tears all day.

Sige is last, having just finished at work, and he pulls Maelgwyn close on the couch. His big arms enveloping you is one of the most comforting sensations in the world, and Maelgwyn closes his eyes and relaxes into it. He feels the rest of his friends setting in around them, and feels maybe a little ok. They all stay in a big pile for the afternoon, gentle conversation drifting around the room. Maelgwyn joins in when he feels like it, but mostly just stays still and quiet, enjoying the company.

Around three, there is a knock at the door. Everyone looks at each other in confusion until Castille stands up to get it. The front door isn't visible from the couch, but Maelgwyn goes tense at the sound of his father's voice. 

"Is... Is my son here?"

Maelgwyn hunkers down, covering his ears, not wanting to hear whatever's coming. Someone pases him headphones playing something loud and he takes them with gratitude, drowning out the world with heavy electronic beats. He opens his eyes when a gentle hand rests on his shoulder. Castille is bending over him. He takes out one bud. 

"He's asking if you'll see him."

Maelgwyn takes a breath. Two. Aubrey holds him tight on one side, Sige on the other. "No." he whispers. "I dont- I don't want to see him."

Castille nods, and Maelgwyn puts the headphone back in, trying not to shake so badly as his friends pull close again. 

In a few minutes Maelgwyn opens his eyes to Castille sitting on his lap and resting back against Sige. He pulls out the music, and swallows. "Was he... how angry was he."

Her face is tired. "He… He seemed more sad, than anything. He didn't try to insist that you come out and talk or something, he said he's glad you're safe. I think he walked here, I didn't see the car-"

Maelgwyn lets out an involuntary wounded noise at that, hunching in on himself. Abrey holds tighter, Castille takes his hand.

"I... I broke. I- I broke the car, and everything, I ruined everything, he'll never forgive me, it's grandpa’s car, I- I broke  _ grandpa's _ car-" Maelgwyn breaks himself off with a sob as Ethan sits on his feet and Edmund comes around the couch to hug his shoulders, the friends on the couch already moving as close to him as they can.

\--

The Six spread out blankets on the floor and sleep in a big pile that night. Sige has to be up early for work, and pats Maelgwyn's head and makes an encouraging face before extricating himself and quietly making his way out the door. The twins are next, off to their jobs at the local summer camp. Aubrey leaves for her internship, making Maelgwyn promise to call if he needs anything at all. Maelgwyn and Castille sit on the couch, hands clasped tight. 

"I have work at two," she sighs, head flopped back against the couch.

"Yeah."

"You can stay here." 

"Thanks." 

Around lunchtime there is another knock at the door. Castille and Maelgwyn stare at each other a moment before Malgwyn straightens up, sets his expression into something braver than he feels. "I'll get it."

The distance from the kitchen table to the front door seem a mile long, but then, too soon, he is there. He grips the handle, pulls the door open. Samothes looks terrible, like he hasn't slept in the two days Maelgwyn's been gone. Maelgwyn's mouth purses against this new wave of guilt. 

Samothes stares at him for a few moments, looking lost, before speaking. "I'm so sorry."

Maelgwyn sucks in a breath and crosses his arms, unable to look at his father's face. "I'm the one who- I broke-" Malgwyn frowns, trying to stops the tears forming before they can fall. "I broke your car. Grandpa- I broke grandpa’s car."

Samothes sighs and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "You didn't... Maelgwyn. You smashed some windows, broke a mirror. It's not... It's fine. It can be fixed. I..." He sighs again, trying to catch Maelgwyn's eye. "I broke things first. You're right. You were right. It’s just a car. You, your dad… Grandpa. You’re all the important things. I've... handled everything badly. You're so young-" Samothes voice gets tight and he clears his throat. Maelgwyn grinds his teeth, taking small breaths, the sight of his dad trying not to cry too much to take in. "You're still so young. You had to grow up so fast, since Samol... We've asked so much of you and you've done it all. You've honestly dealt with all this better than either of us. " Samothes smiles, but it is a heart wrenching thing. Maelgwyn swallows violently, unable to keep from crying now. He doesn't want his dad to look like that. He wants everyone to be happy, wants things to go back to like they were when he was young. 

"Dad- Samol, he chewed me out for this. Rightly so."

"You told Grandpa?" Maelgwyn feels a surge of panic. "No- I didn't go to him because I didn't want him to know, I didn't want him to be upset-"

"It's ok, it's ok," Samothes says like in the tone of voice he would use for nightmares when Maelgwyn was little. "He called me, and ... you know how he is, he can tell somethings wrong no matter how you try to hide it. He couldn't believe we let you leave, but Samot thought you needed time. I... Maelgwyn. I've done this so badly for so long I'm afraid every choice is the wrong one. I don't know how to fix this. But-" Samothes reaches out, as if to put a hand on Maelgwyn's shoulder, but lets it drift back to his side. "I love you. My sweet boy, I’m proud of you, and I love you. I can't believe I  _ ever _ let you go around thinking I didn't. " 

Maelgwyn crumples a little, clutching his own arms tight. He nods, not sure what he's trying to agree to, wanting his dad to know he loves him too, how he missed him the last few days and the last few  _ years _ , but unable to say it quite so soon.

"I'm not going home yet." He whispers, grimacing as Samothes nods, tears falling down his face, too. 

"That's ok."

"I'll... I'm going to Grandpa's. If he knows anyway. I'll be there."

"Ok. That's good, I'll- ok."

"I'll come home some time."

"That's... please." Samothes stares at his son, as if to memorize him, grief and love plain on his face. Maelgwyn gasps a little sob and moves to hug him in a rush, squeezing tight and backing away before Samothes can really react. "I'm gonna go, I'm gonna- I'll see you. Later." 

Samothes nods, wiping a hand down his face. “If you need anything, please, call."

Maelgwyn half smiles. "There's kind of a list of people I've said I'll do that to, but ok."

Samothes nods, mirroring his watery smile. He steps off the porch. Maelgwyn moves back inside and closes the door, leaning on it heavily. The hollowness has been replaced by an overwhelming buzzing, so many emotions bouncing around his insides. He puts his head in his hands for a second, trying to get control of his body back, before going to find Castille to tell her he's going to his grandfather’s.

\--

Maelgwyn had run out of the house, he doesn’t have bags or anything when he shows up at his grandpa’s place. Samol is waiting on the porch. Maelgwyn didn’t even have his phone charger, but Castille’s had fit and he had managed to give some warning before arriving. 

“Come here,” Samol says, arms wide. Maelgwyn lets himself be enveloped in a tight hug, returning it gingerly in case Samol is in pain today. “Oh, little one. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting so bad?”

Maelgwyn shakes his head. “You’ve got enough to deal with.”

“Baby, what’s the point in me being here for my family if I ain’t here for my family? Come on inside, you eat yet?”

Maelgwyn shakes his head again, sniffling only a little bit as he follows Samol to the kitchen. It smells spicy and wonderful inside, and he is hit by the sudden, achy sensation of being home.

“I hear you finally killed that shitty old car. I don’t know why your father insisted on keeping it around, It was a piece of crap back when I had it. S’why I gave it to my kid!”

Maelgwyn laughs a little. “Didn’t kill it, apparently. Dented it. Surface wounds.”

“Mm, great, the disaster lives on.” Samol gives a celebratory twirl of his curry spoon.

“Yeah…” Maelgwyn settles onto a stool at the counter. “He’s just afraid of losing things, I think. The car’s… You know, the car’s a metaphor or whatever. Fix it, fix everything. Kinda dumb for a guy with like three phds.”

"Yeah, little bit." Samol sighs, stirring the large pot on the stove. "That boy... He always did that, throw himself into some other project to avoid facing the real problem. I'm sorry I didn't teach him better. Or reach out, or... This ain't my fault exactly, but it is happening because of me."

"Grandpa-" 

"Dying's inconvenient, huh!" Samol reaches over the counter to pinch Maelgwyn's cheek. He makes a face at his grandfather. "But i'm still here for now! Ain't in the ground yet, let's eat good food and be happy till then, alright?"

Maelgwyn nods. Anything Samol wants. "I'll get dishes out."

"Good boy."

The food is good. The happiness isn't quite there yet, but but Maelgwyn falls asleep that night content.

\--

Maelgwyn is full of a kind of nervous energy the next few days but doesn't feel like facing the outside world. He channels it into cleaning the house and working on the garden. Samol helps when he feels like it, but mostly supervises and provides refreshments. 

"I'm happy to do it, grandpa, you can rest."

Samol laughs. "I don't need rest, i'm doing ok, I just don’t wanna clean."

Going home is still out of the options, Maelgwyn feels, so he scrounges around the house for something to wear besides the t-shirt and jeans he'd been inhabiting for the last few days. 

Samol directs him to some boxes in a corner of the attic. 

"Think I still got some of your dads’ clothes up there. Might fit, they were about your size once."

"Samot's not even that taller than me now," Maelgwyn says smugly, peeling off ancient tape. 

Everything smells a bit musty, but there are old band t shirts, some unfortunate but maybe somehow fashionable pants, overalls, an old thick canvas jacket. 

"Your dad worked in a garage through high school. Samothes. Wore that."

Maelgwyn turns it to look at the front. There's an oil stain on the left side, and a name tag sewn on above one of the breast pockets. Sam H. 

"He was mad his whole name wouldn't fit on there." Samol sounds amused.

"Well. It's his name. Besides if people shortened all your names to Sam we'd have no idea who anyone was talking about in this family."

Samol laughs as Maelgwyn carts some clothes off to the laundry room.

\--

It's the middle of summer, but it still gets a little chilly at night. Maelgwyn only hesitates a bit before pulling on his dad's old jacket to go sit on the back porch with Samol. He’s already tapping some weed into the bowl of his fancy glass pipe that looks like a flower that he won’t tell Maelgwyn where he got it from, and Maelgwyn laughs.

"I still can't believe you smoke weed. And that you buy it from  _ Fero _ ."

"He's a nice young man," Samol shrugs, making Maelgwyn laugh more.

"No, he isn't!!"

"Ha! No, he's a little rude. But I like a little rude. Car demolishers and rude weed dealers, I keep wonderful company." He ruffles Maelgwyn's hair as he passes the pipe and lighter. Maelgwyn takes a big drag and passes it back, and nearly chokes as the back door swings open. Through his coughing fit he stares in horror at Samot, who is mirroring his expression. Everyone is frozen for a small eternity before Samot groans and drags his hands down his face. He looks balefully at the two of them.

“Will you at least share?” He asks, sounding defeated. Samol barks a laugh and passes the pipe as Samot moves to sit between them. 

Maelgwyn stares at his dad, who in turn stares out into the night. After a moment of quiet contemplation he glances at the two of them.    
  
"I can't believe you're just smoking on the porch. You didn't even sneak into the park?"   
  
Samol laughs. "It's my house, I can do what I want. Didn't expect someone to come barging out here." He squints at his son. "Sneak into the park? Is that what you did?"   
  
" _ Yeah! _ " Samot laughs, a little wild eyed. Samol cracks up.   
  
"See, Maelgwyn, great company."   
  
Maelgwyn smiles, still a little unsure of the situation. Smoking with his grandpa was strange enough, his dad being here is a whole new thing. Samot turns to look at his son, taking in the jacket.   
  
"Huh. Haven't seen that in a long time."   
  
"Sorry, I'll gi-"   
  
"No, sweetheart, it's ok. I'm sure he won't mind." Samot looks at Maelgwyn sadly, raising a hand to cup his cheek. "We really fucked up, huh?"   
  
Maelgwyn chuckles, watery, and nods. Samot sighs, leaning forward to kiss his forehead.    
  
"I'm sorry I made you feel like I wouldn't listen to you. I just... I wanted the best. For you, not  _ from _ you. You're incredible, Maelgwyn, always. My kind little sun kissed boy." Samot runs a thumb across Maelgwyn's freckled cheek. "And your father… you come from a long line of stubborn assholes.” Samol laughs gently in the background. “He was backing me up on the school thing and he took it too far when things got heated. And I didn’t stop him. I am  _ so _ sorry, Maelgwyn. You know-" Samot hesitates, sucking in a steadying breath. "I don't mean to ask you to come home. I don't think I have that right. But I want you to know," he says, looking directly into Maelgwyn's eyes, "That you are welcome there. You are loved there."    
  
Maelgwyn nods, and thinks one of these days he's going to run out of tears to cry over this. As it is he leans into his dad, wishing he was small and could be picked up, held safe. He's not a child anymore, but Samot does his best, holding him fierce, face pressed into his hair.    
  
"Oh, my baby," he sighs, rubbing a hand down his back. "I'm so sorry. I'm here now."   
  
Maelgwyn hiccups a little, wishing he hadn't taken quite so deep a drag before this conversation. He's a little dizzy and disjointed on top of the emotional exhaustion, and he would rather like to go to sleep, or at least lay down in a very quiet room. Or smoke more, maybe. He reaches blindly towards Samol, who he's pretty sure is in possession of the pipe now. He hears laughter, muffled by his father's arms, and he sits back up as he's passed the weed.    
  
Samot chuckles, wiping his eyes. "God. I'm just pretending I don't see this. We never tell your father.    
  
Maelgwyn nods as Samol says "Agreed," and Samot laughs harder. Maelgwyn brings his legs up to sit cross legged on the bench, one knee resting on Samot's thigh.    
  
"I'll come home soon," he says, looking at his dad and grandpa in the light of the old bulb over the porch and the round moon in the sky. They're both looking at him with such fondness, it's a little perfect and a little too much. "Not... not tonight. But soon."   
  
Samot nods, tucking Maelgwyn under his arm again.   
  
"Any time. We'll be there waiting for you."   
  
\--epilogue--   
  
It's bitter cold outside Samol's house, though the path to the porch is clear. Benjamin, his parent's friend's kid who goes to the nearby high school and hangs on his every word, had helped Maelgwyn shovel snow the day before. It had been clear all night, despite Samol's annoyed worrying that another flurry would fall and no one would be able to make it there in time for the feast.    
  
"Snowing on  _ Thanksgiving _ , it ain't even December yet, this is  _ un _ reasonable," he had grumped from the porch, wrapped in a somewhat comical amount of scarves.   
  
"It's nice," Maelgwyn had laughed, leaning on a shovel. "It looks pretty. And I can pelt it at this kid," he said, tossing a loose snowball at Ben, who made a face and dodged.   
  
"It got school cancelled," Ben shrugged, "So I'm not complaining."   
  
Today, Maelgwyn sits in a familiar shitty old car, somehow resuscitated enough to get him back and forth between Old Man’s Chin and home four days a week. Castille sits in the passenger seat, a large, tin foil covered dish sitting in her lap.   
  
"You ready to go?" She asks, looking dubiously at the window, already forming frost.   
  
"Come on, you're holding the hot food, what are you afraid of?" Maelgwyn looks at the bag of bread and can of olives and other not warm even at all food he had been tasked with carrying. "Sprint? Should we sprint for it? Maybe it won't be that bad?"   
  
"Race you!" Castille is out the door almost before she finishes the words, and Maelgwyn scrambles to follow, cackling as he fumbles to lock the door and catch up with his girlfriend. She beats him to the porch easily, and they're both out of breath when Maelgwyn rings the doorbell. Samol is at the door quickly, grinning at their giggling and ushering them inside.   
  
"Quick! The hot air’s getting out, quick now!"   
  
They bring the food to the kitchen, Maelgwyn pulling out the things he brought and setting them where they need to go while Samol kisses Castille on the cheek. She had become another regular guest at his house, the whole Six had over the summer, and when she visits town on weekends she often stops by. Maelgwyn hadn't quite factored the teasing potential of Castille and Samol combined and used against him, but he is still always happy to see some of his favorite people getting along.    
  
"It smells great in here, Grandpa! I see you defied Samothes and cooked stuff even though he said he'd do it. High five."   
  
Samol chuckles and reaches to hit his hand. "I love my son but I trust my own cooking. Besides, the oven keeps the house warm. How've you been, boy?"   
  
"Since yesterday?" He teases. "I've been great."

Maelgwyn tells him about school, how he still hasn’t quite found what he wants to do but that the varied art history and computer science and politics classes he’s in all have something fun about them. Castille joins in, telling them about the welding art elective she’d been surprisingly in to. Samol talks about his slow days, and the new stray cat that’s been hanging around that he’s begun to call Fero (“He’s a little rude!” he cackles), and pleasant conversation is passed while they all work to set the table and finish meal prep before the others arrive. Samothes and Samot are right on time, and have brought half a feast themselves. Maelgwyn wraps back up again and faces the cold to help them bring things inside.    
  
The table spread is amazing, and more than five people will ever be able to eat. Samol starts to insist that Castille takes leftovers back to school before he's even finished a piece of cornbread. 

They eat till they are full, and the food is good, and they are happy. 

Maelgwyn runs to the car after dinner to retrieve a forgotten can of whipped cream, Samothes wrapping him in an extra scarf as he goes. A bulky sweater under his dad's old jacket only do ok at staving off the bitter cold, but Maelgwyn still lingers a moment before returning. The light from the house is soft and yellow, glowing out into the night. His family is inside, laughing and together. Maelgwyn smiles, and walks towards the door. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> god i hope maelgwyn is spelled right all through that


End file.
